Going off Anti D’s// the health side of Bali

Hi pals,

Long time, no write. I’ve been HUSTLIN’. I’ve worked longer and harder than ever to get my ass to Bali to complete my yoga teacher training. This has been a dream of mine for many years. 2 years ago I realised that dreams are just goals without timelines so I made a timeline. I made a bank account named “yoga” and I set up a savings goals wherein I’d put so much money in to this account every week and in x amount of time I’d be in Bali livin’ it up. This did not happen. CFS beat my sorry ass down to a pulp and I became house ridden for about a year. Fun times.

As soon as my CFS stopped being a jerkface and allowed me to do basic things like work to acquire funds, keep my eyes open, not take 3 hour naps twice a day, I booked my teacher training.

I was sooooooooo fucking stressed about 3 weeks of yoga. Let alone being awake all day. Let alone functioning in another country on my own. Being away also meant that I could not have my usual acupuncture which is my saving grace and the only thing that makes me feel semi-human.

My doctor was so supportive of my trip even though it came as a big random shock to him. He wasn’t surprised though because he knows I’m a little YO to the LO (omg who am I, I’m stuck in 2015 with all my dumb phrases but YOLO). I just went for my usual acupuncture before I left but he insisted on writing me out scripts for shit such as anti-nausea medication used for people undergoing chemo LMFAO. He was like MAKE SURE YOU TAKE antiseptic cream for injuries and a first aid kit. Does he know me? I’m disorganised tired gal, I have not the energy or care to do such things. I did fill the scripts though. OHHHHH he gave me an all-rounder antibiotic script too. Such a sweetie. I felt so safe like he had prepared me well, doing all he could to keep me alive while I was over there.

As soon as I got to the island and met all my fellow yogi’s I just knew I was going to do another YOLO or should I say you-only-manic-and-go-AWOL-once and go off my anti-depressants while I was away. I didn’t mention this to anyone before I left but I did have the thought in my mind a lot. I told Malcolm a few days in to being off them and he was like girl you had one job – go off them when you have the support of your friends and family at home who can help you if you have an Emergency. Too late hun. Let the good times begin.

Except… nothing happened. I had researched coming off my meds a lot. I knew that there would be little to no side effects. However, the side effects I did read about that could potentially happen really scared me such as dead ass tired body that feels like lead. Great, just what I need when I’m battling cfs and 3 weeks of yoga. I don’t think that side affect ever hit me. Let me just google the side effects and I’ll tell you if I had any.

Okay, I cannot remember having any side effects per say but I do remember having a headache the first couple of days. I cannot directly relate this to coming off anti d’s though as I was also acclimatising to extremely high humidity so I think it could have been dehydration as well. Maybe a bit of both.

So as for anti d come-down, nothing happened.

In terms of CFS, on the second day we had to tell everyone our injuries. I don’t have any injuries but I told everyone I have CFS because it’s so much a part of my life that it’s just one piece of the Codii puzzle. But OMG. 24 people took it so seriously and they were asking so many questions and I accidentally blew everyone elses injuries out of the water because everyone thought CFS was so severe and so like LIFE SHATTERING compared to having herniated discs or broken your back. I was very regretful at this point of having opened my mouth because I just felt like I did not want ANY attention for this part of me that haunts my life but has simultaneously given me a lot of perspective. It’s so normal to me now that I forget people just get SHOOK thinking a person lives with this and that they are also here, doing 6 x 12 hour days of class including 2.5 hours of yoga a day in like 99% humidity.

After that happened, this lovely lady came up to me and she was like where are you staying? And I was still v shy at this point and I was like just up the road. She kept pushing me to know EXACTLY the place I was staying at. I had no idea why she was that interested, it was very weird. And then she goes oh just so I can drop dinner off if you are too tired after class or if you want me to collect your laundry and go and get it done for you. I was NOT expecting that. I was taken aback. THIS LOVELY PERSON IS DOING CARING ABOUT ME. WHAT IN THE EVER-LOVING WORLD?????????????????? I’m sooooooo used to masking so well/people knowing me for so long and rejoicing in how well I mask that they don’t have to offer me help or alter anything so they still feel comfortable knowing me + getting the best out of me + not having to deal with the side of me where I cannot move every night from exhaustion. Hibo, I’ll never ever forget that moment you showed so much sincerity and kindness and I just thought you were a creep wanting to know where I stayed. I’m THAT used to people treating me like I’m able af and never ever offering any help (which I’d never take up usually but maybe that’s cos no one ever offers with actual sincerity, more out of obligation if ever). I’m tearing up thinking about that act of kindness. I’LL NEVER FORGET.

I had the kindest yoga teacher who met you were you were, not where she expected you to be. She always assured us every day that child’s pose (crouching in basically a foetal position) was always a valid position to rest in and if we didn’t feel up to practice we could just stay in child’s pose for 1.5 hours. I was like BIITTTTCHHHH, I got something to prove. But as soon as we started practising, I realised that this powerhouse of a teacher was either going to break me through me pushing through and letting ego take over or I was going to surrender to my body and take care of her. My body wins every single time. I think I’m lucky in that regard – I’ve had so much practice listening to my body. Not even by choice, just by the fact that I’ll be bed-ridden if I don’t listen lmfao. I noticed that A LOT of yogi’s where pushing themselves probably past what they could handle and I felt like a lot of it was just wanting to be “as good as” their peers. Since I got CFS, I’ve always said that I want to be the example that you need to listen to your body, rest when you need, and not let ego get in the way and make you push past your maximum. I think a lot of people ended up rejoicing in the fact that “Oh codii is laying down through this hectic af vinyasa flow, maybe I CAN rest and no one will think anything of it.”

I spent a lot of time on my mat reflecting on what my body could do and being so grateful for how far it’s come. I cannot lie though – I did spend a lot of time jealous of what everybody else’s bodies could do which was so far past mine. There were many times where I was on the verge of tears out of frustration/jealousy. I don’t like to dwell though and I definitely spent a lot of time being in genuine awe of what other people could do (hello Becci). If I couldn’t do a “peak pose” which is basically a hard af pose like a headstand or something else instagram worthy – I’d just stop before I injured myself and I’d end up taking pictures of people in amazing poses celebrating what they could do!!!! It was inspiring and humbling as heck!!!

As the days went on I felt my energy declining rapidly. It was so hard doing yoga first thing in the morning. I wake up with so many aches and pains that I never ever do yoga in the morning. It’s the time where you’re least flexible too. I always perked up in the afternoons and I was like Dayummmmm, why can’t we be doing vinyasa flows now? I just felt like my body schedule never aligned with what we were doing which was a bit frustrating but whatever! One morning I recall feeling so defeated after a yoga class where I just laid on my mat the whole entire time feeling sorry for myself. I got so desperate that I googled to see if there were any acupuncturists on the island despite my doctors strict instructions not to even attempt acupuncture in bali due to hygiene issues and probably a lack of oversight in to the profession. There no none anyway which left me feeling even more desperate and defeated.

The last few days of the course I really could not perform at all. It was the days of our finals and we were doing 2.5 hours of physically intensive yoga a day and then 2.5 hours of really intense stretching. I was well and truly SPENT. I, again, spent so much of that time laying down on my mat. I never felt any judgement from my teacher or peers which was so so encouraging and supportive.

When I got home I looked at all the pictures people took throughout the course and I felt a bit sad. Mostly all of them people are doing amazing poses and I am laying on my mat LMFAO. I know that’s my ego speaking though. I know that all I ever could do was put 200% in and that I certainly did.

I also knew at the time that I had to reserve energy to socialise and enjoy my time. I know that I wholeheartedly did that too. There’s so many videos of me dancing and laughing and that’s all the evidence I need to know that this sleepy eggplant did her best.

I am actually in awe of my body. I cannot comprehend how it pulled me through. I love it so much more for what is has done for me in the past month. You are a temple. One fuelled by Oreo’s and Pocari Sweat but no less, you are the temple of all temples that keeps me going.

I LOVE ME. I love what my body has done. I loved my course and how supportive my teachers and pals were.

Now back to the topic of Anti D’s. I’ve noticed a lot of changes in me. Not side affects but changes. I’m emotional AS HECK. I’ve realised that for two years I’ve just been stable. Not emotional and not cold. Just stable. It’s been great. I’ve marked my mental health progress but how stable I’ve felt.

It’s time to feel things again though. I feel everything so much more intensely. I cried so much during the course and mostly every single time I cried it was because I was experiencing someone else’s pain. I love that. I can feel other peoples pain again. I haven’t been like that while on anti d’s. I can listen to the most fucked up story of someone speaking right in front of me and I’ll be like “I’m sorry that happened to you.” COLD BITCH. COLD. But now I just feel the pain and cry with them and I think it’s more so a bonding experience rather than just standing there blank faced and being like WELL, that’s very shit, time to move on.

Since I got home I’ve cried so much. I cry trying to tell Malcolm that I’m more fragile these days and he’ll have to deal with it and not question it.

Another thing I have experienced is CREATIVITY. I just feel these waves of creativity and all I want to do is run home and create. It’s been perfect timing too as yoga is all about creativity and really creating sequences that resonate you and that will hopefully resonate with other people.

Also, when I’ve been reading books, all the teachings and lessons in them are just RUSHING THROUGH ME SO MUCH MORE INTENSELY. I’m reading an anatomy book related to yoga and I am just SO STOCKED to be reading it and learning and the whole time I’m like YAS YAS YAS, I love being alive. It’s ridiculous and also ridiculously cute if I must say so myself.

All I want to do is dance. This is a weird one. But you’ll all recall that all I ever used to do was dance horribly and enjoy it so much. All I’ve ever done to sisterly bond was have big dance party nights with my sisters in which they’d all be red-faced and super embarrassed by my poverty dancing skills. Since I’ve got home I’ve realised noticed this side coming out again. I keep stealing Malcolm’s phone because he has spotify premium (how rich is he???) and all I want to do is listen to music and dance! And then it hit me that on the island all I did was dance tragically to the laughter of my pals. There’s so many videos of me dancing and it brings me more joy than anyone could ever imagine seeing myself so happy that all I can do to express it is dance.

The downside’s have been my anxiety. It’s back binches. Thought you’d never see me again πŸ˜‰ I’m finding that before when things happened my brain would easily allow me to go to “maybe that person is just having a bad day, it’s not about me at all.” Now my brain tries to go straight back to “what have I done??? it’s me isn’t it??? Did I look angry when I walked in to work??? what can I do to fix this?”

Everything my brain thinks is about me again. It’s so selfish and I hate it. The world is not about me. People do not think about me 24/7. No one is looking at me. No one hates me. But yet, here is my petty little pea sized brain cooking up stories with me at the centre of every single interaction. It’s even getting to the point where every day that I go to work I convince myself that if I avoid everyone, don’t make eye contact, don’t say a word that will be the easiest way to get through the shift and not have any anxiety LMFAO it’s so actually funny when you rationalise it and put it in to words. It does seem very severe when I write it out but please know these are all split second thoughts. I know how to overcome them as I’ve been practising for two years. I know how to observe my thoughts and not become them. Even though I do have a lot of great coping mechanisms I do want to hit up a psych to spin some mad chats. I do not ever want to relapse so I’m really going to take good care of my pea brain.

Last but not lease, SEX BABY. Please note that I have first received Malcolm’s permission to speak about this. So actually my main reason for wanting to come off anti d’s is because I did enjoy being a former sex addict HAHAHAHAHAHA! Since being on anti d’s I’ve just lost all feeling to my Jenny Tails, I’ve lost all desire to ever have sex, nothing feels like anything so why bother? In my mind even I’ll be like damn I wanna fuck, he a babe, I need 20 orgasms, let’s do it fam! But my body would never ever agree or catch up with those mental thoughts. It was soooo frustrating and honestly, I felt so much time feeling guilty over this issue. I know it’s ridiculous to feel guilty but come on, tell me you wouldn’t feel some of those thoughts too.

Honestly, every time I would get frustrated over sex Malcolm would be like binch calm down, I don’t care – I’m with you for your brain not your vag. But nothing ever helped. I still felt shitty. It was really a never ending cycle.

BUT NOW. DO YOU WANNA KNOW THE NOW??? I can feel my vag again like there’s sensations there!!!! Some hella fine sensations!!! Sensations I just wanna experience 25/7 and that I need to talk my brain out of pursuing because I have 20 day of work in a row/ so many ducks to line up/CFS always catches up with me etcetc.

The first time I had sex after fully coming off anti d’s I could hear myself speaking and I was like dayum binch, is this your alter ego or something? This is NOT you speaking. I’m just becoming a FREAK. This is the best news ever to me. I think I used to really put too much emphasise on the sexual side of my personality so I’m glad I’ve had two years to overcome that and become a nun but now I’m gonna let LOOOOOOOOOSEEEEEEEE.

If it takes me another 6 months to write another blog, you’ll know where I am πŸ˜‰ something something On The D.

Love,

Codii + a very sleepy Bindi sitting beside me x

 

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How I ridiculously wasted every single spoon today (you won’t believe)!

A few days ago some dude knocked on my door and I opened it thinking I was getting a parcel but what I got was a ridiculous out-of-this-world story to tell you instead!!!!

Bindi was barking her face off and I couldn’t hear this guy giving me some speech about what he was selling but I looked him up and down and was like FUCK I’VE ENGAGED WITH A JEHOVAH’S WITNESS. I rudely cut him off and go “so what do you want???” He said there was a new vacuuming business opening up and if I gave him my deets I’d go in the draw to win a free carpet/mattress/couch clean. I really wanted him to fuck off and I really DESPISE Malcolm’s fucking sharehouse couch that he won’t let me get rid of so I was like yeh righto I’ll get it cleaned if I “win”. What are the chances of winning, right???????

Then I get this call while I’m out and this guy answers with CONGRATULATIONS, YOU’VE WON A FREE CARPET CLEAN blahblah and he was really keen to come around ASAP. I was like nah dude calm down and also I’m clearly not as excited as you that I’ve won so??? chill. Anyway, we booked it in for this arvo.

It gets to 3:30 and he’s not fucking here!!!!!!!! He also said I just had to watch a short demo and then get the free couch clean without anything else. I call him an hour later to basically be like don’t even worry about coming around because I’m really not keen and he is like I’m on my way soz!!! so I was like FUCK HERE WE GO. But I was like calm down codii what could go wrong? It’s a FREE clean on the couch you hate with your entire soul.

Anyway, I quickly drive home from my mums as he’s pulling up and I can see someone helping him get shit out of the car. I was like okay???? He talked so much that I didn’t ever think about where that person went after she helped him get the shit out of the car. MORE ON THIS LATER!

This guy gives me a two fucking hour demonstration of this stupid fucking Kirby vacuum. This was never mentioned once in our communications. He said a new carpet cleaning company. Not a multi level marking ploy! FUCCCKKKKK. He’s in my house so I can’t get him out and I have to entertain his sales talk and hope it goes quickly.

The vacuum itself was good but he said there’s only one catch – he can’t say the price until the end of the demo. UGH, here we fucking go! Not that I remotely care because I’m just sitting through this demo to get to the free clean.

This vacuum has 12 different uses he says. Some of which include a leaf blower. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??? A sander!!! WHAT IN THE EVER LOVING GOD ALMIGHTY?????? And a massager. OKAY LORB JENSUS HE’S GOT TO BE MAKING A CRINGEY SALES JOKE RIGHT???????????????????????????????? LIke it’s so expensive it better give you a massage while its at it?????????????????????????????????????????

He then goes on to demonstrate every single one of the twelve fucking heads. That’s not even to mention that it has an actual vacuum head and a shampooing head too. WHATEVER CUNT. Hurry up and clean my couch.

He was in my house for so long and I had to act serious and entertain this dude so much that I couldn’t fucking die of laughter and cry in sadness OMG I found out it’s a multi-level marketing scheme and that he is a boss babe. FUCK WHAT HAVE I DONE??? He also says he’s just out of school, was working three jobs, but a month ago he found this one and let me tell you!!! it’s enough money that I quit all three other jobs. Okay satan whatever. Clean my couch.

He was a very well presented young kiddo and I just started to feel really sorry for him. He also told me he had lost his licence for speeding and that his p plate fell off and he got done for that. Poor kid. He then said he had fallen asleep at the wheel and ran off the road or something (I tuned out) and he had to go to court and got charged with dangerous driving. WHAT IN THE EVER LOVING FUCK?????????????????????? Now he lives with his grandma.

OH, did I mention he gave me a fucking massage?????// A fucking stranger charged with dangerous driving who has no licence and is a boss fucking babe comes in to my house and gives me a massage while Malcolm is in the next room. GOD. The massage wasn’t a joke. It was with one of the twelve attachment heads to this stupid fucking vacuum. It was like a massive vibrator he places on my back and shoulders without even asking for my consent OMG.Β  He wasn’t creepy or anything so I really didn’t mind but I just love that I can forever have this story of this cunt coming in to my house and massaging me with his stupid fucking vacuum cleaner!!!!!!

He also tries to tell me that his vacuum would be the Ultimate Money Saver ever because it lasts 50 years and it does the work of a sander which is $300, a massager that is $300 BLAH FUCKING BLAH. He even suggested that I could make the money back from buying the vacuum by starting a carpet cleaning business and charging people to clean their shit. UM WHAT?????????????????/

He then says the vacuum is just $46 a mother fucking week!!!! WHAT??? I was like okay yeh I just want the free clean pls yeh I’m not doing that. Then the boss babe goes okay you can’t afford that? How about $25 a week! Yeh it’s $25 a week. I asked for how many weeks and he said he couldn’t tell me until the end. Turns out it’s 36 MONTHS or 48 MONTHS on a plan. GET OUT OF HERE SATAN.

He even told me during this whole ordeal that dust can cause water on the lungs which is Really Bad for us and we don’t have to accept that when we can just have a Kirby!!! I was like okay boss babe that’s probs some pseudo science but whatever clean my couch and I’ll happily live in my own filth rolling around in all my dirty money I’ve saved not giving in to your shit.

This is the part where I start getting frustrated. BLOODY MALCOLM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! comes out after two hours of me putting up with this and goes dude how long is this gonna be? You’ve been here forever and its fucking up my study with all this vacuuming noises.

OMFG. So then boss babe is like I’m just finishing up, don’t worry πŸ™‚ Yeh right, he was just finishing up the demo!!!! the two hour fucking demo!!! He said he’ll come back tomorrow to clean my couch OMG so now he’s gone and I just wasted a full afternoon with him and my couch is still full of the germs of the 7 dudes who used to live on it in a boys share house setting. KILL ME NOW.

By the way, he’s not coming back to clean my couch. I can’t fathom him coming back and hearing his voice and his loud fucking vacuum and using even more spoons on him.

Here comes a part from before, he takes so fucking long to pack up and asks if he can use my kitchen sink to wash out his vacuum bits (fucking ew but okay pls just leave whatever takes the quickest at this point). After he’s done packing up he goes “okay I just have to call my boss to come and pick me up cos I lost my licence” FUARKKKKKKKKK.

He calls his boss who he calls “Chip” which is just the best name for a dude who makes money of poor unsuspecting kids who think they’ll become millionaires OML. The boss of the boss babe is in Brisbane. FUCK. So he has to get an uber. Mind you, this dude hasn’t made any money from this demo and he’s coming back tomorrow (he’s not) to clean my couch. Does he take ubers everywhere to do shit for free? How does he make money?????????? I FEEL SO BAD FOR HIM I COULD ALMOST CRY WHILE SIMULTANEOUSLY WANTING TO SCREAM AT HIM BECAUSE HE STOLE MY SUNDAY.

So yeh, it’s been an hour since he left and I can still hear his loud af voice in my head and his condescending sales tones but most of all that vacuum is ringing in my head non stop and I have no spoons left and I need to sleep.

Worst massage ever (might be good on the clit tho with all that vibration).

FUCK ME DEAD.

I GOT BOSS BABED.

BYE FELICIA.

 

I started an accidental business???

It’s very public knowledge that I pet sit, I think? I consider it a hobby. It’s so fun meeting dogs rather than people!

This all started when I was in uni because I so desperately wanted a dog/to hang out with dogs and I came across a website that allowed me to do that and get paid??? DA FUQ??? That was a Codii dream come true.

I think I really came to the scene very early on in the websites stages. This explains a bit later on actually!

Anyway, I signed up and I set my prices really damn low to attract the doggo’s because I just wanted to hang out with doggos all day. This really worked and it got me the fucking worst clients ever. I had this dog that would constantly dig holes and escape (I kind of refuse to pet sit staffies now fuck people who say they are ultra cute and good, NO -NIGHTMARES).Β  I had some lady who was a legit fucking hoarder! I’ve never been in a worse house in my life. It was truly what nightmares were made of and I thought it was gonna be a hoarders episode not me taking her dogs for a walk. Also, the dogs were total DICKS!! One dog REFUSED to leave past the front gate. The other dog had crazy eyes like it would happily murder you and eat you if it was given the option. It was a massive dog and it chased fucking dogs and cats down the street with me just being dragged and sprinting to make sure I didn’t let go of the lead and cause a DISASTER.

Honestly, I took my sister with me on the lady’s request cos she said her dogs were big and difficult but I NEVER EXPECTED THAT EVER. It’s been like 5 years and I still talk to my sister about it like LOL remember how I started my dog sitting career?

I then had an army guy threaten violence against me and when I called the pet sitting website (to which you pay a 15% fee mind you!!!!) they said there was nothing they could do. This was after I was locked out of his house which was completely his fault and he asked me simultaneously lift up his garage door which isn’t meant to be lifted obviously and crawl under it at the same time. I was shaking with anxiety and felt like I was gonna die. I ended up having to leave his house because I felt so unsafe cos he was like you don’t wanna know what I’ll do to you if anything happens from this or SOME SHIT. Mum was ready to fly to Brisbane and fuck this dude up for how mean and rude and violent and abusive he was OMG.

Needless to say, I took a fucking vacation from pet sitting after that event.

Also, this was all on one website. I had another website but it never really took off. I actually got banned from the first website after army dude WHICH I’M STILL REALLY MAD ABOUT BECAUSE I CALLED THEM FEARING MY LIFE AND THEY SAID THERE WAS NOTHING THEY COULD DO AND THEN BLOCKED ME.

Anyway, these are just all the dramatic things to make this blog dramatic. But the smaller, less known website was providing me with the goods throughout all of this too.

I walked a dog for a lady for months!!!! because she leg was broken. I loved that family. It was all a bit strange though because she had a teenage son who’d come out at 5:30pm to hand me over the dog in his pyjamas??? I was like dude can’t you walk the dog? but okay whatever I love her! She was my one true bae! I still think so much about her because I just love her and her family. This lady also provided me with the “this girl must know some shit because she has regulars” appeal.

I then pet sat for a lady who asked me if I knew anyone who could get her weed. No sorry, but I’ll look after your animals? She lived in a legit hotel on the Brisbane river paid for by the government and she always told me Malcolm could come and stay because I always looked after her animals on the weekends. BLESS HER. She was so cute and feminist and we’d cross the river on the free ferry and go on dates and pretend we had a hotel to go back to. Well, it wasn’t pretending?? But that lady paid me SO good? Even though I told her my rates she’s like lOL I’ll pay you this much, also there’s like $50 in change so get yourself dinner and wine. I LOVE HER. I did this often so another regular.

I also had a family and they left.their.dogs.out.for.NYE.fireworks ):):)):):):):):)):): and the dogs escaped :):)):):):):):) and I had to rush over there and find them and the whole neighbourhood were so angry at me because they thought they were my dogs or something? AND THEN THE DOG BIT ME BECAUSE IT WAS SO SCARED AND I HAD TO GET IT OUT FROM UNDER A CAR AND RISK MY HAND OMG and the client was asked to pay me for an extra visit because I dropped my life and tended to this emergency situation and got my hand bit. But she never paid me :):))::)):

Anyway, I accidentally started a business in the process of getting abused and bitten by angry dogs. I have regulars, I have “”””elite”””” people whose animals I look after, I have top rating WHATEVER WHATEVER

I don’t care.

I also increased my prices and at the same time the website really took off.

I just love their animals and I still love hanging out with friendly puppers. It gives me the greatest joy.

Anyway, it seems that in amongst the fun of talking to animals like they are humans in my spare time this little thing has taken off! The other day my phone buzzed constantly with requests.

But I am crippled. With anxiety.

What used to be my biggest fun affair hobby has turned in to ADMIN.

I am not an admin girl. I can’t do admin. I can’t respond to messages in a timely manner hahaah have you noticed? i’m probably ignoring someone right now to write this blog.

Tonight I really thought about why I leave pet sitting requests for days unopened. It’s a bit fucking strange and it’s definitely not business savvy. BUT I NEVER INTENDED TO BECOME A BUSINESS. Poor little me LMFAO. I never ever wanted to become more business than hobby but I actually think it’s turned in to that.

Let me explain.

People make requests. And then some people inevitably ask me to reduce the price for my services. I already really have low self-esteem and self-doubt when it comes to this shit because I know I’d happily play with dogs for free. I FEEL GUILTY. I FEEL REALLY FUCKING GUILTY AND I FEEL LIKE AN INTRUDER. Who is this girl patting dogs and getting paid for it?

But on the other hand…

I’m like an a+ top rated “business” now. I have references, I have a million reviews, I have a fb page dedicated to my adventures, I have it all. But it cripples me!

I always go and meet the family first and this is where I just get fucking crushed omg. I listen to their story because I’m a chatty person and then I start thinking fuck these people love their dog but they are poor and I can’t charge them what I usually would because they are poor? They are so kind by rescuing a dog and they never go away cos they are poor but they are tryna do a good thing and get their dog looked after while they are away and I’m charging real life cash dollars OMG. And this is all before they’ve even mentioned that they can’t afford me.

FUCK.

And here’s where it gets murky because now I’m being chosen for my services based on the fact that I have top reviews, I’m reliable and friendly etcetc BUT I wanna act like I’m a 12 year old who has all the time in the world to be doing this shit when in reality I gotta feed my own fur-child, I’m chronically ill, I have an actual job etc. HECK I’M IN TOO DEEP.

I’m at a cross roads pals OMG. I don’t even have a solution. I’m a bleeding heart leftie. I just love animals and I think they should always have the best care and life despite the income of the people who own them. It’s just so obvious that that is the core thing in life but the reality is different because I don’t wanna be staying at another persons house looking after their dogs like they are my own when I legit got a fur-kid myself at home without me. LOL JKS she loves Malcolm more than me anyway HAHAHA.

I’m very aware this blog is a lot of rambling about silly things. In the end none of it matters because I get to hang out with fluffy creatures (on the odd chance I overcome my anxiety and open the damn emails to begin with).

I probably have Imposter Syndrome πŸ™‚

Suggest real talk shit below. I have even more anxiety cos it’s nearly holiday season and I get a lot of requests then OMG HELP. I was thinking maybe I could just be like sorry I am booked out/out of your price range but I’m sure there are other capable people who could help you for less, just keep searching luv cos I’m gold standard now baby (hilarious dumb attempt at being confident when I’m clearly not at all).

PS: I just love dogs.

 

 

 

 

Filthy rich and homeless

Straight up: have you ever considered how many steps you are away from homelessness?

I’ve a changed human, pals. Honestly. I feel like this is going to be a very long blog since I just had some deep shower thoughts and since I’ve just finished both seasons of Filthy Rich and Homeless.

One of the main themes on FRH is asking the viewer to consider just how close they are to homelessness. Have you ever thought about it? Because I have not! Ever!

But in the shower just then I was thinking about it and I was like FUCK. NO WAY.

Firstly, I have learnt something from FRH and it is that homelessness is defined as having no permanent address type of thing – it’s not about sleeping on the streets which is immediately what I think of when I think of homelessness. And I guess that really comes from a place of privilege. I’ve never not had a home. Okay that’s a lie. Once I didn’t have a permanent address.

And here’s the thing!!!! I only just realised that in the shower!!! At one stage I didn’t have a home. And did you know how easy it was to fall in to that state of “homelessness” if you wanna call it that? ABOUT A TWENTY SECOND CONVERSATION. That’s all it took to leave me without a house.

I was living with this dude for ages and then he told me he wouldn’t be renewing the lease with me because he was moving in this his gf. I was like okay cool, but sad. We had a really good housemateship and it was comfortable living with him. I tried to advertise for a new housemate but it honestly took me MONTHS to find my current housemate to begin with so I really had extreme anxiety thinking about it. I don’t think anyone ever replied to my ad. There were several factors has to why the house was not ideal. The bedroom was small AF, it was $150 a week for that small af room, it was in a great location but that was about it, it had no fan or ac. But it had been my home for two years and I loved it ahah

Anyway, I was faced with the ever-looming reality that no one was going to move in, I couldn’t afford the rent on my own, I’d need to find a new house. But the timing was really shit and I had to make that decision. Find a new housemate or find a new home. All whilst studying full time and working 20 hours a week :):):):):):)

I had serious anxiety in general at this stage of my life. I really couldn’t make rational choices or exist. I was EXTREMELY picky when it came to finding a house to live in. I would only consider living with one other person, it needed to be in the immediate area BECAUSE MY FUCKING BOYFRIEND AT THE TIME TOLD ME IF I MOVED TO THE SOUTH SIDE WE’D BREAK UP ESSENTIALLY. I was so in love with this dude that I couldn’t even fathom that happening. So here I am, HAVING TO LIVE BASICALLY 5 MINUTES FROM MY CURRENT PLACE TO KEEP THE ONLY STABLE RELATIONSHIP THING GOING.

I was just so lucky that at that exact time my friend who legit lived a few km’s from my house was going to India for a month or two? Can’t remember. She had lined up someone to move in to her roomΒ  that she was sub-letting but she knew what I was going through and cancelled on that girl to let me move in temporarily.

It was only $100 a week and I remember it was a busy period at work so I was working extra hours for cash. I was saving a lot of money compared to my usual situation but it was FUCKED. I was living in someone else’s bedroom, using someone else’s cooking items and EVERYTHING. Nothing was mine. I felt like I had lost my identity as a depressed and anxious person. Seriously I spent and continue to spend my entire life in bed. I didn’t even have my own bed???? I was also really scared 24/7 because anxiety and also this place had no screens on the windows because it was old AF, on a main road and just made me feel really un-easy.

I was mostly just REALLY FUCKING LUCKY to have a place to live though. But then my friend was coming home from India and it was still sooooo hard to find a place to move to because nothing had changed. I still had ol m8 in my head telling me that if I moved “away” we wouldn’t work. And as an anxious person do you even know what that feels like piled on top of your urgency to just find a god damn fucking place to rent that is within your budget and within your expectations etcetc???

Anyway, the situation got really dire and my boyfriend said that if he was really desperate I could come stay with him while I found a home. It was just SOOOOO stressful because it wasn’t even like I could be like to my friend coming home like hiii can you just stay away for a bit longer until I find somewhere. I was living in her BED and her PLACE.

STRESS

FUCKING

FUL

At the very last moment I found a place. I knew deep down that it was not ideal at all but it was so close to where I’d been living for years, it was affordable and most of all!!! It solved my problems.

I had really bad anxiety. Have I mentioned that? I really couldn’t cope with being a human and I couldn’t cope with these people AT ALL. I remember staying awake all night just fucking LIVID at them. To get to my bedroom you had to walk through the laundry. My bedroom door was opposite the washing machine and shit. These people would do their laundry at midnight!!! I could hear the constant tumble non stop all night OMFG. Add to this that I was really poor throughout this whole fucking experience because I was paying $300 a month off my braces whilst living on youth allowance and the income from my job!!!! So I just had extreme anxiety because they’d use the dryer 24/7 as well as two air cons on permanently. My anxiety quickly grew to hate these people because I was soooooo anxious about how much the power bill would be and how I would not be able to afford it/anxiety making up scenarios of how I’d have to SOMEHOW pull money out of my ass to fund the bills because I already had a job and couldn’t take on another one whilst studying too!!

I basically got kicked out of their place. IT HAD TO HAPPEN. I was almost relieved when we agreed we couldn’t live together because my mental health was fucked from everything. Is that homelessness? They were good and said obviously I could stay until I found a new place. CUE: many, many weeks of knowing I’m not welcome in a house (I wasn’t even on the lease) and having to find another place CLOSE TO THIS PLACE COS OF THAT BOYFRIEND!!!! while studying and working and dying from mental health issues.

The only thing that broke this cycle was that I randomly got a call from a top law firm and they offered me a temp full time job where I made a fuck tonne of money. This meant that I could increase my renting budget. The universe truly shined down on me and found me these amazing housemates (Hi avril, I fucking love you). Everything changed from then on.

For the first time since moving out of home I had amazing housemates. They were a married couple and Avril took me on as her adopted kiddo. She would text me if I was out at night when I usually wouldn’t be etc and she made me feel loved and safe and truly welcomed!! I was like wow is this what living with people should actually be like? Honestly, I’ll never be more grateful for her. It really changed everything for me.

Then I got sick though. I didn’t have a full time job. I wasn’t even capable of working. I was living off youth allowance. My mum had given me $3000 that I’d already used trying to survive. You see, when I got sick I was living my best life. I was paying $200 to live in this small af apartment with my friend. I could afford it and live a luxurious life. When I got sick I could no longer afford it and especially not on youth allowance.

I come from a single mum low income family. There’s absolutely no way she would have been able to bail me out like she did except some shit happened and she could that time. So I’ve always had the anxiety of knowing it’s do or die basically. I know that if I was going to die then all my family would come together and find a way to bail me out but it’s just readily available, you know what I mean?

The only saving grace was that when I got sick my lease was about to be up so we moved in to a house where it was $130 a week rent which was doable. I definitely dropped my standard of living though. The place was ages away from where we lived before, I didn’t have an ensuite anymore etc. Anyway, that’s material shit I didn’t care about when I legit had no money.

With paying much less rent and only being on youth allowance, and my braces being fully paid off I could JUST SURVIVE. Everything was rationed. I broke my phone and I obviously had no savings and no means of getting another one. I remember living without a phone for MONTHS. Malcolm and I shared a phone AKA I borrowed his when I saw him because I was too poor to afford. I also had to cancel my phone plan before I broke my phone because I couldn’t afford $80 a month anymore. They said I’d have to pay $500 to cancel it and I accepted because realistically I knew that it would be a debt I could sort out in the very distant future. I literally had to decide between a debt in the future or a debt now.

I also had an overdraw on my card of $500. I got this when I was rich and a bit silly. Well, nah… the guy explained that any overdraws count towards your credit rating so if you have an overdraft you can go over without consequence. So when I was sick I was constantly $500 overdrawn because I could never make it up. This meant that I was paying $20 a month I think in credit fees. There was nothing I could do though.

Bindi then ate chocolate and had to spend a night in emergency. It was $700. It was the first time I’d ever had to rely on Malcolm. He insisted on paying. I couldn’t say no because I didn’t have the money! I had no idea where I’d get the money from to pay for her vet fees. I just knew she had to be saved so there was no way out. I will forever be grateful for him paying that vet bill OMFG otherwise I probably would have had to put a bigger overdraft on my account and get in to more debt.

At this point too, Malcolm started to catch on to all my debt. It gave him really bad anxiety and he wanted to pay it all out just to get me started again. He said I could pay him back if I wanted but he didn’t give a fuck. I obviously said no and continued to live in poverty :):):):):) because I’m dumb and also TRAUMA so yeh :):):):)

The angel that saved me in this dire time was at Australian Tax Office. Thanks bae xoxo

That previous financial year I’d been working full time and I remember doing my tax on the 1st of July LOL #justpovertythings and somehow getting 3k back. WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK? I think I cried because I knew this would solve all my money issues. I paid my optus bill, I paid my overdraft and cancelled it, I bought a really shitty $400 phone and then tried to keep the rest for the next fucking emergency that was destined to take over my life :):):)

My general poverty and FUCK WHERE IS MY NEXT HOUSE AND LEASE GONNA BE??? kind of resolved itself when I moved to Toowoomba. Rent here is cheap, I have a whole entire duplex to call my own, Bindi has only ate chocolate once and it only cost $150 to fix :):):):)) but the biggest thing to change for me was that I forced myself to get a job despite the fatigue I was still experiencing. Since moving to Toowoomba I’ve been able to afford a $4k car thanks to Malcolm telling me not to pay rent until I got a car cos he was fed up with me using his 25/7 πŸ™‚ cheers bae xoxo

Malcolm has continuously bailed me out. I’ve never had to rely solely on him, thank fuck but he definitely contributes to my lack of anxiety about being alive and poor. I know pay everything myself and I’m doing decent. However, it’s always in the back of my mind that my prior fatigue could return with a vengeance and I’d be back bedridden with the last thing on my mind being getting rich or die trying.

That was a long-winded way of saying SHIT! I’ve been really close/at the stage of homelessness. That my living situation and financial situation has never been stable. That I’ve had major anxiety about simply making it week to week for most of my adult life. That I’m at the mercy of a chronic illness everyday that determines how much I can work/if I can even work at all.

I have Malcolm but in reality I’m one relationship breakdown from being fucked. HOMELESS.

How scary is that to think????

Sure, I could go live with my family but I have a dog who hates their dogs and would get eaten. I have my independence that I thrive on. I have my issues.

Anyway, another point to watching FRH is that I actually could not give a fuck about homeless people. Seriously? Do you? I used to almost cry everyday on my way to work when I first moved to Brisbane and had to witness so many people sleeping rough in the city centre. It broke my fucking heart. Sure, I’d buy The Big Issue every fortnight but that’s only because I justified those homeless people as “wanting to help themselves” and “working for their money.” By my fifth year in Brisbane I was so desensitised to seeing rough sleepers that if any of them asked me for money I’d feel like it was RUDE of them and an INCONVENIENCE to my day.

Imagine thinking people in genuine and real crisis are rude and inconveniencing your day? But you know what? I reckon you agree with me and you deep down think the same. I’m just the one who is gutsy enough to admit it.

And the best thing about moving to Toowoomba? The lack of rough sleepers. I never have to even face the reality that 116k Australians are homeless every night. It never even has to enter my mind anymore. I don’t even have to feel a tad guilty at not giving people my change.

I’ve technically been so close to being homeless and yet I actually don’t give a fuck about my fellow humans who are in those circumstances. Deep down on an emotional level when I think about them obviously I feel pain for their suffering but what I’m saying is that I’m just so conditioned to seeing that level of suffering everyday now that I don’t even blink an eye. Isn’t that fucked?

Another thing that is fucked is that these days no one carries cash so you legit don’t even feel guilty telling the homeless guy begging “soz I’ve got no cash” whether it’s true or not. You hope and think that the homeless guy is understanding towards you cos no one carries cash anymore. THE ACTUAL FUCK??????????

FRH is truly a life changing series to watch. It humanises the problem.

I don’t have a solution at all but what the people who did the challenge say is that approaching rough sleepers, having a chat with them, asking them what they need is an act of generosity that really can change someones day or even week.

I don’t carry cash ever. I don’t think that change for me where I carry cash everywhere I go in case I spot a rough sleeper who needs money. Let’s be real.

But I have to do something. We all have to. Whether that’s just looking a rough sleeper in the eye and acknowledging them, that they exist, that they are a part of our collective humanity and that they matter. WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING.

What have I committed to doing? I already donate to charity regularly. I don’t think that solves shit and I don’t feel good just because I try some money at other people to help because I can’t be fucked. But I really hope that I can do something maintainable. I really want to buy $5 gift cards when I’m at coles to keep in my purse. This is very doable for me. I can then use them if someone asks me for money or if I never ever see a rough sleeper for my entire life then I can donate them to charity who helps those in need or something. I need to do something, we all do.

Have you watched FRH? How has it changed you?

How close are you to homelessness?

Let me know in the comments.

Unsolicited advice

Aka: FUCK OFF.

Someone just asked a question in a chronically ill vegan group basically being like “does it annoy you when vegans act like veganism will cure or prevent any and everything?”

And that triggered me!!!!!!

FUCK YES IT DOES.

But then it got me even more ANGERY thinking about people in general handing out unsolicited advice.

I have many thoughts in regards to this so just listen up if you’re not chronically ill/disabled.

Firstly, being chronically ill is a full time job. I’ve said this before. I’ll never stop saying it. Before I got sick I always used to think WTF do disabled/chronically ill people do all day? Like don’t they get bored?

No we don’t get bored. EVER.

An average week for me is giving in to the one billion medical professionals handing out advice on an under-funded and under-researched illness called CFS. NO ONE KNOWS SHIT ABOUT IT. Yet doctors and EVERYONE speculates and you’re expected to listen and take their advice and be like thank you so much you’re gonna cure me!!!!!!! good on you!!!! while you live your life as a fucking minor research project for their curiosity.

Every second week I go to my doctor who is also a medical acupuncturist. Last week he told me that my blood pressure is dropping ever further. He said I needed a blood test to make sure it wasn’t iron or something. I then went and got a blood test that took an extended amount of time and difficulty to get because my veins are so small and now I’m all bruised up in my arm from them digging around searching thin air for a vein!

On the same day that I got my blood test I also had an exercise physiology appointment. This sweet gal has given me two exercise plans – one for when I’m REALLY tired and one for BETTER DAYS. Love, do you know I live in the REALLY tired state every.fucking.minute??? How am I meant to judge when I’m “really tired” or having a “Better day”??? Cos lemme tell you!!! There was one!!! study down on exercise and cfs. It showed that graded exercise helped cfs. That study has since had a massive new york times investigation conducted on it and it was found to be fully rigged for reasons I just can’t even be fucked to research. I have my lived experiences which tell me exercises obliterates me for days. So anyway, this lovely gal is telling me how exercise increases energy. And I was like okay but I mean… are you talking in the general population or people with cfs? And she responds saying ohhh I mean in general yeh exercise increases energy. She could not tell me that exercise in CFS patients increases energy. She’s treating me like I’m the general population when clearly I’m not and clearly it fucks us CFS humans up. WHATEVER!

Anyway, I HAVE to go to this gal because a rheumatologist who told me she’s “by no means an expert on CFS, I’m a rheumatologist which is a different field” hot-potatoed me to an exercise physiologist because she couldn’t help me herself. And I HAD to go to the rheumatologist because my doctor, who isn’t an expert in CFS, told me I needed to go to fulfill the requirements of being a “good sick person”. Basically, a good sick person who follows all the rules of seeing experts/tryna help themselves/following advice of people who have just as much as an idea as yourself etc

So now every second day I have to choose an exercise program. I have to wake up and be like shit…. fuck…. how do I feel? Really tired or just tired? Which exercise regime should I do today.

AND THEN! I have also had to see a dietitian in the past week who gave me a real plan she legit printed from a published book you can buy at dymocks (no hate but come on). So now I’m doing all this hectic good eating which takes a lot of energy because I have to make all this balanced food.

And then my blood test came back with something wrong so I had to see my close and convenient doctor nearby. She asked so many questions like what do you eat etc and I’m like :):):):):):) I’m on a dietitian implemented meal plan :):)):):):):):)) so she was wrecked because she couldn’t do the “oh just go see a dietician and eat more iron rich food” which was an amazing feeling like PLS BINCH I’M DOING EVERYTHING.

And then!!!! I have stupid fucking disability support people actually harassing me about coming in for a meeting regarding working even though my occupational therapist granted me a one year break from working. Obviously I need to work and I work A LOT so this all seems redundant and useless anyway.

Oh and while I was at the doctor she started asking me about my gynaecologist and how I’m going with him!

Point of this: as you can see I have a whole fucking village of medical professionals I constantly need to check in with/follow orders from/be a puppet too. I really don’t have time or energy for your pseudo-science advice.

And yet!!!

I posted on a vegan gals group asking for chronically ill gals to make themselves known so we can chat and some fucking binch messaged me telling me about this amazing pill that has 100 diff fruits and vegs in it and cures everything!!! Do you know how hard it is to just click out of that message and not reply with a major rant talking about how rude and inconsiderate one must be to send your multi level marketing shit to me?

Tonight someone asked me if I have tried juicing celery??? No?!?!?! because it tastes like shit?!?!!?

I see in a million support groups people asking have you tried eating raw/paleo/Mediterranean/vegan etc. It’s just never ending.

Honestly, believe me, I get that people just want to help. It’s hard for people to listen and not offer a solution.

But for the love of multi level marking and celery juice, PLEASE STOP BEFORE I LOSE MY SANITY.

 

 

 

Rheumatologist + Breaking Stereotypes

Hi Pals,

Sorry that I’ve been away. It’s like taking an extended nap and then forgetting to reply to all those text messages from before the nap. You feel me? You would feel me if you have chronic fatigue ahah such a fucking common thing I do.

Anyway, I went to a Rheumatoligist today. They are musculoskeletal and immune specialists. They basically tell you whether you have an auto-immune disease or not.

My doctor explained that it was just another administrative process to being a fully fledged chronically ill person with no diagnosis other than “ya fucking tired, you got chronic fatigue, go home and sleep.”

I was hella nervous because I REALLY felt like was my last chance at hope. I mean??? No one wants to be told they have an autoimmune disease but at least it’s SOMETHING. Do you know how frustrating it is being told you have a SYNDROME. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS A SYNDROME? A syndrome seems like some gene pool fuck up that leaves you with a bit of a fucked personality/body or something.

I was joking with my chronically ill friend that Rheumo’s have the best job. They wouldn’t have that job performance anxiety where they feel like they really wanna impress or cure a patient because you can’t cure any autoimmune things just manage them. It’s a pretty neat job. No one comes to you for a cure. You can’t fuck up really?? It’s not like you can make their life worse than it already is. Sorry sweaty you have an autoimmune disease, that’s $450 for the consult. BYE.

Basically, I knew seeing a rheumo was not going to help but I had hope. Isn’t that sad? I know I don’t have an autoimmune disease already. I have no inflammation blood markers, I have no symptoms. I’m just tired fam.

I had no idea how a rheumo appointment goes and in light of that I’d like to share how the consult went.

The rheumo was like hi codii, my name is -literally points to her name badge to which I can’t even remember her name cos I was tired lol just cfs things-. She asked me how I was going. WHAT DO I SAY???????????? Like right in this moment how am I? How is my life? How is my condition???? WHAT DOES THAT QUESTION MEAN! I did a nervous laugh while contemplating all that shit and then said good. Nothing is good sharon, I have an impending sense of doom lingering over me, I haven’t washed my hair in a week, my kitchen is so dirty that I have fruit flies making it their home.

Anyway, then she did the most dreaded thing ever and goes “SO TELL ME YOUR STORY.” I just wanted to walk out. Fuck you Sharon. Firstly, do you not read my blog? I’m kinda a big deal. Secondly, that’s a general question m8. I was born, some shit happened in the middle and now I’m here at 10am on a tuesday at the hospital tryna get my life together. I just ran through a really brief timeline of what happened. She goes “yes it does seem exactly like chronic fatigue. I’m not a chronic fatigue specialist though. I’m not being facetious (SHE SAID THAT WORD IN A GENERAL SENTENCE) when I say that I am not a specialist and I do not know if there are specialists. I’m being very serious. What I do specialise in is autoimmune diseases so let’s make sure you don’t have an underlying autoimmune disease causing you fatigue.

She’s so damn good at segues. I admire her segues. I admire how she keeps this appointment so on topic. She’s an actual hero.

She then asked if I had any skin conditions like rashes, any chest pain, any soreness, any joint pain, any stomach conditions, any headaches. She then says okay you don’t have an autoimmune illness. Lay down and I’ll examine you.

She checked my blood pressure, heart, chest, lungs etcetc. She then grabs this fucking hammer type thing and starts banging on all my reflexes/joints IDK to see how they react, I assume? I was shivering, I was convulsing, I was about to cry from how much pain I was in. She goes “what’s wrong?” in her cold af voice. I said that it hurts in the deepest way imaginable like the pain of being banged everywhere (lol) is hurting my soul. She doesn’t respond and keeps banging. She then goes “I’m going to check your joints because that’s what I get paid to do” and I think it was meant to be a joke or something but it was not funny and was just weird??? IDK. Was she laughing at her job? Who knows.

At one stage she held my arm at my elbow and my whole arm did this dramatic af hypermobile FLOP. She was like wow you’re hypermobile. That’s probably why you like yoga. Nah sharon, I like yoga cos it helps me exist, not cos i’m good at it, I can’t even touch my toes ffs.

She told me to sit back down. She said I need to go to an exercise physiologist in regards to my cfs so I don’t decondition. Lovey, I thought you told me you weren’t an expert in cfs? Why you talking about deconditioning from being so tired and not pushing yourself?

That was the part where I just got really pissed off. You’re either an expert or you’re not. If you aren’t, please don’t comment on exercise and pushing yourself. She kept using this DUMB AF analogy.

Here it is:

“As I said, if all I can do is walk, and I keep walking, I won’t be pushing myself because I can already walk”

WHAT

THE

FUCK.

Can you just stop?

She also said I should go to a dietician since I can’t eat heaps of foods because they make me sick. This was the only relevant and interesting thing I got out of the appointment. She said that if I’m not coeliac yet get so sick when I eat gluten than it’s the FODMAPS associated with gluten. I’ve researched it all day and I’M WOKE KIDS. YEPYEPYEP. I’m FODMAPS fucked. Not worth $450 to be told that though.

I’d like to highlight that I did not pay for this appointment. I went through the public system and was on a waiting list for 6-9 months. Somehow this annoys me more because I had hope that something would get fixed alllll this time and her conclusion is “you are discharged, you don’t have anything wrong, CFS, go see that dietician and physiologist.” Having said that, I’m also so grateful I didn’t have to pay because it all seemed so hopeless and frustrating and upsetting.

It’s sad and fucked when you’re genuinely upset that you don’t have an autoimmune disease and you’re just fucked without good explanation. I refuse to belief chronic fatigue syndrome is a thing. I just want a solid explanation!!!!!!!!!! But I do acknowledge that I do have CFS 200%. I just wish it was more researched and funded so that had answers to have cfs is.

Also, the rheumo asked me about my anti-depressants and how they are doing for me. I’m like absolutely amazing. I’d be dead without them. Well and truly dead.

She was this really proper south african with a rich white person accent. She was shook with my response. She’s like ohhhh okay (probs thinking mental illness isn’t real or something hahahahaha).

This brings me to my next point.

I wish there wasn’t this fucked stereotypes of what mentally ill/chronically ill people look and seem like.

I have this idea of a dishevelled, sad looking ill person.

I’m an upbeat, well-presented, well-spoken person who should be at the peak of their existence.

Always love the reactions I get when I say I was suicidal AS FUCK before anti-depressants. What, I don’t look like I’m mentally ill to you???

I can’t wait until we break the fucking mould of what chronically ill people look like. I can’t wait until I associate chronic illness with people who look like myself instead of lonely, socially isolated, bed-ridden people in pain.

Does anyone understand what I’m tryna say?

I’m not trying to sound rude or snobby or anything. I just feel like chronically ill people and mentally ill people are portrayed to be a certain way when in fact we’re the gal sitting next to you in the hospital with the sleek bun, fashion on point and sunny disposition.

HAPPY TUESDAY TO YOU MY FRIEND!

Signed,

The sleepy eggplant WITHOUT an autoimmune disease but who is hypermobile af πŸ˜‰

Weight Gainz

Trigger warning: disordered eating, weight chats, weight kilogram chat

I’m an expert on all things weight and food related. Exhibit A: I just ate a tub of ice cream and a packet of salt and vinegar chips for dinner. Totally an expert.

On a more serious note though, I’ve been struggling with my weight. And it’s taken me a very long time to pin-point why that is the case considering I’m all for body love (unless it’s my own and then it has to be stick thin). I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s about acceptance.

I’m so fucking resistant to change. Actually, I think it’s proven that humans are majorly shit at change. But I’m even more shit at change than the average human! I can’t do it. Here I am having dreams about my ex from two years ago as recently as last night!

I’ve always been exceptionally thin. I think. I’m not certain of anything weight or body image related any more because I have anxiety and I’ve also never been able to judge my own body in a way that truly reflects how it actually looks. I say this because I remember being 15 and looking at my ass in the cinema movie toilet mirror and thinking “fuck I have the biggest ass.” I remember just being obsessed with how big my ass was but seeing a pancake flat ass. But in my mind it was massive. Does that make sense? A bit like body dysmorphia but I don’t want to be dramatic and say that because it’s probably just normal or whatever.

I guess I also can’t accurately judge my body because it’s mine. It’s just me. I’ve lived in it for 24 years and I’ve never seen it as an outsider.

So when I spent the majority of my teenage years below 50kg I thought that was “normal” because it was my normal. Ya know? You only know what you only know.

I’m now at a blossoming 65kgs!!!!!!!!!! that’s 20 fucking kilograms more than I was when I had that major mental breakdown and suicidal depressive episode that lasted way too long when I was 22!!!!

I’m 24, I’m 65kgs and I’m absolutely in love with my life, my mindset (wow that prompted me to remember to take my anti d’s, thanks everyone) and everything to do with being alive!

However, I haven’t been in love with my weight gain. Why? Because shit has been changing. I feel my thighs rub together, no one goes “OMGZ HUN UR SO SKINNY OMG WHAT DID YOU DO TO GET LIKE THAT??” on the daily, no one is fascinated by how lean I am, no one makes comments about me blowing away in the wind, I had to go up to a size 12 from a size 6, my wardrobe doesn’t fit me, all my beloved clothes that I’ve worn for years have to leave me. CHANGE. I fucking hate it.

I had a major freak out at the start of this year about my weight. I started dieting as in… calorie counting. That’s the lowest I’ve ever been.

And you know what’s the most ridiculous part of all of this? The world is spinning around me continuously, life goes on and yet here I am in my pea sized brain freaking the fuck out over nothing. I’m alive, my chronic fatigue is improving, I feel stronger than ever.

I look cool, calm and collected but internally I’m screaming because all I want is maccas but it’s oily and unnecessary and truly committed people would not sabotage themselves with trash that will make their weight explode out even more!!!

This past week I’ve felt a shift. Actually, it’s been slowing rising up in me. I’m sick of fighting an invisible troll everyday.

The first step was to buy my favourite pants in the next size up. DONE. Guess what happened? Nothing!!! Absolutely nothing!!! Except I felt less locked in to my pants and my hip flabby things felt so much more comfortable and not squeezed in. The world didn’t end because I had to go up a size. Ahhhhhh a sigh of relief. Maybe I CAN do this after all.

This week I decided to fuck off my whole wardrobe. Everything that is size “extra small.” I’ve never been an extra small person. It really did not align with my personality, my values or my desire to live a good life. I have soooo much knowledge, so much passion, so much creativity, so much desire, so much of everything. Imagine if we labelled our internal organs and shit with sizes? Mine wouldn’t be “extra small”.

I didn’t even feel as sad as I thought getting rid of everything. It’s like getting rid of the negativity that plagues me everyday. I feel like it’s an act of acceptance that I’m starting over with comfortable clothes that allow my body to breathe instead of gasp.

I’ve always felt too big for my small body. My experiences, my memories, every one of those one million books I’ve read all fitting in to that tiny body? It’s time to expand it to reflect my lived experiences and joys! It’s actually a little bit exciting to upgrade!

I feel like I’m shedding the naivety, the immaturity. I’ve always want to be an average human adult in this world. I truly feel more adult now and I feel it’s reflecting in my body growing too!

While all of this has been happening I’ve also been re-evaluating the way I nourish my home. I’m trying to eat in more of a fresh, vibrant vegetables way. I aim to do everything in moderation now so that I never feel like calorie counting is a good idea. How can an act of survival be so painful and stressful?

Tonight while eating my tub of ice-cream I was like “oh I might look at the calories of this entire tub” but instead of dying at the results I was like yeh gurl you’ve got this, thanks for accepting your body, the world is going to become a much easier place to live in when you are getting along with your body and not mistreating it everyday.

In the wise words of a human pal I like to call my best binch “you’re body is going to do whatever the fuck it wants to so you might as well do what you want too.”

Amen to that.

Be nice to your body, nourish it with wholesome food including Over The Moo ice-cream, say nice things to yourself, cheer for yourself, caress your stretch marks and tell them everything is going to be okay.

Oh, and send me more gr8 ice-cream recommendations πŸ˜‰

 

Shroom and Lentil Bolognese

I haven’t done a recipe post in a while. Maybe that’s because I’ve been too uninspired to cook anything hearty or decent. But I did tonight and Malcolm can’t stop slurping it up and telling me how good the bolognese sauce is. It’s all home made baby!

Steps to making this dank meal that you can eat all week and never get sick of:

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  1. Fry an onion, big thing of minced garlic and a tablespoon or so of oregano in a pan with oil until the onion is soft.
  2. Add a can of tomatoes and a cup of vegetable stock and bring to the boil
  3. Cut up as much shrooms as you want (I used like 250g) and put them in the pan along with 2 cans of drained and washed lentils. Cook for 15 mins until the water has evaporated and it’s more like a wholesome sauce mixture.
  4. While that shit is cooking, boil pasta in a saucepan with a lil bit of salt cos that’s what you’re meant to do and idk why.
  5. Once the pasta is cooked and the sauce has reduced done to a good consistency, add the pasta to the fry pan and mix it all through.
  6. Put it in a bowl and then cover it with a fuck tonne of cheese.
  7. Send me pics of your food and praise me for my wonderful cooking.

Thoughts on January

I did a minimalist challenge for myself all January and I thought that is what this post would be about but then when I was crafting it in my puny little brain it completely changed to just shit I did in Jan.

Here ya go:

I did a few things that were cool in January.

 

Firstly I started off the year in the most wholesome way possible! With my best pals, driving around at 8pm buying a sewing machine off a drunk lady (hi Emma) from a swap and sell page in order to learn how to sew and make underwear. We also played the “fire kitchen” game on ps4 and ate homemade cinnamon rolls which put me in a gluten coma.

Malcolm then got a stomach ulcer and we spent all of new years day in Emergency trying to sort him out. He ended up on a drip with a million different things in it.

I always have new years resolutions. And the truth is: I always follow them through. One year it was to start washing my face nightly. TICK. I still do it 5 years on. Last year it was to not buy any new clothes TICK I wanna write a blog about that. This year it is learn how to sew. I have found a lady who is going to teach me for only $20 a class!!!! I’m soooo excited.

I have a few more little things to do which include: yoga twice a week, meditation once a week, save and buy a fucking car codii you dickhead, keep on with recovering and try to get to a stage where I can moderately exercise and not spend the next week bedridden.

I started off this year calorie counting because I stepped on the scales for the first time in 6 months and was brutally fucking shocked. Calorie counting lasted a few days. I had a headache, felt weak af and sooo miserable. Then mum convinced me I was being a fuckwit (which I already knew) and I went back to eating as I do. DUMBEST IDEA 2018. Don’t ever do it. The fact that I now know how many fucking calories a spoon of olive oil has is ridiculous. Except now I pour it by the fucktonne with the joy of someone who DOES WHAT THEY WANT.

Update: I still haven’t tried a domino’s vegan cheese pizza yet. This may disturb some of you.

Oh also, my sister has been down for three weeks for xmas and new years and we had the most wholesome lunch w mum. My sister and I do not get along. We went to bali for two weeks together randomly and before we even got on the plane we were both messaging and calling mum to vent about what a cunt the other person is. BUT. This miracle shone down upon us and we didn’t fight once!!!! Is this adulthood? I even said to mum that I didn’t want her to leave because it was so enjoyable having her around. Tysha, if you’re reading this, get fucked, that last sentence is a lie.

Another highlight was that I randomly put up a post in a fb unconsuming group asking for friends HAHAAHAAH (the best way an introvert knows how to make friends). Probably about 100 people replied to my post telling me about themselves and about how they’ve also wanted to make friends but didn’t know how. It’s fucking unreal the amount of people in the same position as you when you reach out!!! I went to coffee with the drunk lady I bought that sewing machine off on new years eve HAHAHAAHAHAH she has been roasting me on fb about how I can’t sew and shit ever since I bought it and then responded to my friends post. I spent 2 WHOLE HOURS over coffee just chating non stop!!!!! I couldn’t believe it. I was a tiny bit nervous about the friend date. What if we had nothing to talk about or nothing in common? FUCK THAT NOISE. We had sooo much in common and we’re both hilarious legends (who got sunburnt sitting in the shade). I’m feeling sooo wholesome and meeting new people is the married af person’s version of dating, I feel.

Speaking of having things in common with strangers!!! I’m reading Desmond Tutu and the Dalai Lama’s book on joy or something. It was published in 2016 and it’s amazing so far! Two amazing minds coming together to speak on topics. AHHHHHH. Anyway, one thing I’m finding soooo interesting is that both agree that the way to cultivate joy and live a more wholesome life is to think about other people more often. Sounds so weird, I know. But then it started to make sense. They were saying that we feel most alone when we focus on ourselves and what we’re going through. If we think on a bigger level of how many people are going through exactly what we’re going through (or worse) we start to feel connected. The Dalai Lama was saying that when he was younger he’d go in to speeches or meetings or WHATEVER thinking about how he was a buddhist monk, male, age, ETC and he felt isolated like no one else was like him. But now he goes into everything thinking he is just one of 7 billion people and it makes him feel waaaayy more approachable and normal and like part of a community.

I cannot relate more to that! At the peak of my depression all I did was obsess over how I felt and how alone I was. No one could understand what I was going through and it was just me in this big black whole of shit and hate and terrifying thoughts. Then I started to read up on Buddhism for the first time and it’s all about focusing on the moment and the interconnectedness of humanity. I was soooooo anxious that I thought that when I had to go out somewhere I’d focus purely on my surroundings. A big part of this was observing other people on the train and walking on footpaths and stuff, since this was where I was a lot of my time. I noticed something, a lot actually. No one looked happy, no one was smiling, no one was particularly enjoying themselves. In fact, so many people looked stressed/concerned/worried/tired/lonely and I started to relate so hard to them. Mentally I would be like “fuck stranger I feel exactly how you feel, you’re not alone.” If I was mentally telling a stranger they weren’t alone because I felt the same way didn’t that mean that I wasn’t alone too? REVELATION TO THE MAX!!!

Once I started to feel empathy for my fellow human pals surrounding me I felt so much better. Not better in the sense of less depressed or sad. It was more a sigh of relief that I wasn’t actually the only one experiencing certain emotions and thoughts. I came to the conclusion that everyone is going through some fucked up shit and trying their best to act normal in the face of it. WOW!! That was me too!!1 See!! not alone! interconnected!!

Clearly this book is giving me A LOT to think about.

Another thing that has been giving me A LOT to think about is Oprah’s Soulful conversation podcast or whatever it’s called. Malcolm hates it because he says Oprah is a cunt but cannot articulate why he thinks that. One night I was sooo feelin myself and decided to listen to her podcast while I cooked dinner. It was about mindful eating or some bullshit. I almost turned it off because it was such hippy bullshit about how you should only eat for nourishment and to really look in to why you wanna eat what you wanna eat. Like are you feeling sad and masking emotions with food? Why do you wanna eat that chocolate cake. UTTER BULLSHIT. I’ll eat all the chocolate I want, thank you. I didn’t give up because I ain’t a quitter and I’m so glad. It all started to tie and make much more sense. I do actually agree with what the lady was saying. I think it’s always a good idea to try and understand your motivations behind things. She was saying how women have so much guilt around food and that really we should not because food is about nourishing our bodies. It was a self-love type of thing. I can’t really explain it but go and listen and tell me what you think.

Surprisingly, it was actually Oprah the OG herself that said something that just got me!!! You know when you hear something and it just clicks like WOW. Yes. WOW. That happened! They were talking about gratitude and about how it’s nice to practice it by writing down things in a journal you’re blessed for but like??? who has time, who actually does that? ME. I DO. Anyway, she said an even better way to practice gratitude is to just stop once or twice a day and ask yourself “what is going right?”

IT CAN’T BE THAT EASY?????????? Well, it can folks! I’ve actually started doing it and it’s sooooo much easier to come up with a massive list of shit you’re grateful for when you pose a question like that. Right now, what’s going right for me? I ate a wholesome dinner, I had a day off to relax, my body isn’t tight cos I just did yoga, my love is laying in bed on his laptop and I can see him from my position at the dining table, our whole house is closed up and it’s still the perfect temperature, we’re about to get a well deserved storm and the rain will make me sleep sooo good, it’s a blue moon and we won’t see it because of the storm but the internet exists!!, I’m looking at a bunch of flowers mum gave me for my birthday and then over the weekend she collected flowers from my garden to add to the bunch.

SEEEEE!!!!!!!!! what I mean!!!! If I asked myself 5 things I’m grateful for today I’d really be trying to think of grand moments that pop out. But I had absolutely no troubles furiously typing that list above as it all came rushing through my mind after asking what’s going right?

I also met Malcolm’s parents on the weekend and that went soooo good.

Lastly, I’ve been working so much. Probably to the detriment to my health. Well, that’s definitely the case but I just got paid and seeing that much money in my account to get that damn car I need is sooooo satisfying. My manager broke her arm and hasn’t been able to work so I’ve been capitalising on her pain and taking on all the hours I can at the moment while they are there. When she comes back I’ll have no hours again. I’m also back supervising exams for a fucktonne of money so that’s nice.

Mainly, this January has been so wholesome and I’ve LOVED it. The tiredness of being over-worked is a big bit of shit but besides that I’ve just had an amazing month.

Let me know how you’re doing my friends, tell me your resolutions!!, show me pictures of you engaged in wholesome activities. I wanna share in all your wholesome glory x

Mexi Rice

MEXI RICE

I posted my left-overs on my Binches Group Chat and got asked for the recipe. And then I remembered that I always get asked for recipes and I’m always too tired to share them. BUT I’ve slept literally all fucking day (yay cfs crash) and I had a coffee at 6pm so let’s fucking do this!

I made this recipe up because I only like meals that take 5 mins total prep and cooking time to make.

  1. Make a cup of rice or quinoa in a rice cooker. Did you know you can cook quinoa in a rice cooker?? No one ever told me but it revolutionised my life. Then go do a cool activity for a bit and forget you are cooking food.
  2. Come back once the grains are cooked and chuck some shrooms and oil in a saucepan or fry pan whatever
  3. Wait until they’ve wilted to nothing because mushrooms are lying little cunts and you put sooo much in a pot and then it dies down to nothimg
  4. Salt bae in some spices and shit. I used cumin, curry, paprika, chilli.
  5. Mix it around and then add a tin or two of black beans/kidney beans/a mix of the two.
  6. Mix it all around and then add an appropriate amount of canned tomatoes. You don’t want it to be real wet, just a good amount of wet. Ay ay.
  7. Add in the rice and chipotle sauce. DON’T SKIMP ON THIS STEP. A LOT OF SAUCE. A LOT OF SMOKEY PEPPERY CHILLI HOT SAUCE.
  8. I then added in a grated carrot to be healthy and shit. If I were super healthy I’d probably put in fresh tomato and spinach and stuff but cbf.
  9. Put with a fuck tonne of biocheese and more chipotle.
  10. Send me a thank-you message and a pic of the meal πŸ™‚
  11. High five yourself for eating a delicious meal that you cooked all on your own that didn’t harm a cute and innocent lil animal! Yay you’re doing the good! Keep doing the good!